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Equipment Note: Shooting with the 7D

Fri, Mar 12th, 2010  |   Equipment, Technique No Comments

Edward from Nauticam and Ryan from Reef Photo have been at Kasawari Lembeh Resort with me for a few days, and they were kind enough to let me try a Nauticam 7D housing.

Nauticam 7D housing

My intention was to dive with it for several dives, but I was hit with an ear infection and fever yesterday, so as it turns out, I was only able to do one relatively short dive with the set up.

I’m not going to review the housing per se, as it’s not responsible to do so based on a single dive, but since there seems to be a high level of interest in both the Canon EOS 7D camera and the Nauticam housing, I thought I’d post a few observations.

To start…here is my first (and so far only) photo taken underwater with the 7D, coupled with the new Canon 100mm image stabilised macro lens:

goby face

Key Points:
1. The 7D + 100mm IS lens combination absolutely rocks. The goby above is tiny. It’s the same colour and pattern as the sand. It’s skittish. There was a strong current; visibility was sub-optimal; and light levels were really low. Yet…the 7D AF locked on instantly and stayed locked.

In the same situation, my Canon 5D MkII with the same lens would’ve been hunting ’til my eyes crossed from watching the screen go in and out of focus.

I still love the 5D MkII, but I really wish Canon had implemented the 7D’s AF technology into the 5D MkII, because now…the 5D MkII AF seems dead slow.

2. I intentionally chose a small subject. The 100mm on the 7D results in an effective 160mm working focal length, which means a tight perspective. Shooting something big would’ve meant backing up too far, which…in murky conditions, would’ve resulted in washed-out images.

3. I intentionally chose a shallow depth of field, shooting at f6.3 Partly, this was to give the camera’s AF a bit of help under the dark conditions (wider aperture lets in more light), but mostly, it was to minimise visual distraction from the clutter (rocks, dirt, etc.) around the goby.

4. I doubled-down on my bet by using a Subsee +10 diopter that Keri Wilk of ReefNet lent to me. This was to get even closer…in order to eliminate more visual clutter and minimise the particles (and hence, minimise backscatter) between the goby and lens.

As an aside, shooting w/ a +10 diopter on a cropped sensor camera is far from easy. I’d suggest you start with a lower power, such as the Subsee +5, first if you have a cropped sensor camera and you want to try using diopters.

5. It took me about five minutes on land to familiarise myself with the controls on the Nauticam housing, as the position of controls is unique on every housing. The layout was easy to understand, and I had no major issues underwater.

I generally don’t use external viewfinders, but for people who prefer to do so, the Nauticam viewfinder is crisp and clear.

Several people have asked about the piano-key controls on the right side of the housing. These are unusual and innovative. In short, I like them. They’re within easy reach of my thumb, and I found myself using the top one (AF point selection) and the bottom one (Set button) a lot.

Nauticam 7D housing

Most of the camera’s key controls are available at your right hand, which helps to minimise the need to move your hands around the housing when switching settings. With just one dive, I didn’t have sufficient time to play with all the levers and buttons (such as video functionality).

I did, however, spend a lot of time switching focus points. I set the camera for single focus point, AF single shot…and I moved the selected focus point around to suit the composition I wanted.

At first, I tried to use the four buttons that provide access to the multi-directional toggle to switch AF points, since this is what I do on land. But I ended up not liking that, because the toggle is far enough from the right handle that I had to move my hand to reach it…not good when you’re a few centimetres from a skittish goby.

With a bit of fiddling, I realised that the two knobs available to my right hand allowed me to move the AF point without shifting hand position. Much better.

I did, however, find that the knobs were a bit small, making it somewhat difficult to turn them with a single finger. As I understand, there are bigger knobs in the works, to address this very issue.

Nauticam 7D housing

6. The Nauticam housing allows you to trigger strobes with a fiber-optic connection.

I’ve been using fiber for around five years with my Zillion housings, and to honest, I don’t know why everyone else in the world has been so slow to switch from cumbersome, flood-prone electrical sync cords. I’m happy to see out-of-the-box fiber-optic functionality from Nauticam.

I always shoot manual strobe settings, so with the 7D, I set the internal strobe for manual power, at 1/32 (Menu, Flash Control, Built-in flash func. setting, Flash Mode, Manual Flash, flash output, 1/32).

This level of light output is more than sufficient to trigger my strobes, and the low power setting means I can repeat-fire. If you set the internal strobe function to E-TTL, you have the advantage of being able to simulate TTL exposure control with many Inon strobes via the S-TTL function, but the camera’s recycle time could mean that you miss shots.

manual flash setting

Let me conclude by re-emphasising that this is not review! Just a few quick thoughts after one dive. I enjoy trying out new equipment, as doing so helps me to understand the pros and cons of both the underlying photographic gear and various approaches to making underwater housings and accessories…which, in turn, helps to make me a better photographer.

I’m not “for” or “against” any particular camera or housing, so please don’t ascribe anything like that to what I write.

Equipment Note: Sweep Panorama

Tue, Jan 26th, 2010  |   Equipment, Technique, Places, Adventures No Comments

I’ve been using and really enjoying a relatively new function that’s available in Sony compact cameras. It’s called Sweep Panorama, and essentially, this function automates the process of creating panorama shots like the shot below of Eric playing tourist at Chichen Itza during our recent trip to Isla Mujeres:

eric at chichen itza

I took this photo with a Sony Cybershot DSC-WX1 camera.

By using the camera’s Sweep Panorama mode, all I had to do was press the shutter, start at the left end of the area in the photo and move the camera from left-to-right over the area I wanted in my panorama shot.

The camera stitched everything together…automatically producing a nice 3424 x 1920 pixel panorama image covering a much greater field of view than possible with a normal single shot.

I used this function to take the second photo in my previous post as well.

The Sweep Panorama mode works with the camera in either vertical or horizontal orientation (vertical example for the photo above; horizontal example in my previous post), and you can select options to sweep the camera from left-to-right, right-to-left, top-to-bottom, bottom-to-top.

In short, it’s a handy way to capture wide (and tall) scenics quickly without pulling out your DSLR and laptop to stitch images together.

Sweep Panorama works best with non-moving objects, so it’s suited to landscapes, architectural shots and such, but it can handle a little bit of movement. I’ve used a few Cybershot cameras with this function, and the Sweep Panorama mode’s ability to handle movement within the framed scene has improved quite a bit since this function was initially introduced.

I think that the Sweep Panorama mode is available in most, if not all, of the recently announced Cybershot models.

Fun in the Eastern Fields

Mon, Jan 11th, 2010  |   Equipment, Technique, Places, Adventures 5 Comments

While preparing to head out to the Eastern Fields in November last year, it occurred to me that the trip would be filled with lots of experienced and talented photographers, armed with a plethora of fancy equipment.

So one thing I decided to do just for kicks was to experiment with something decidedly non-fancy, non-expensive, non-hi-tech.

After a bit of research, I came across a tiny toy camera called the Digital Harinezumi (harinezumi means porcupine in Japanese), pictured below in my hand:

digital harinezumi

In this day and age of inflating megapixels, improving low-light performance and extraordinary in-camera HD video…this little gadget certainly seems out of place.

It’s made in Japan by a company called SuperHeadz (what a cool name!), but I couldn’t find one in Tokyo before I jumped on the plane, so I picked this one up at a store in Singapore called 8 Storey Tree.

The camera shoots both still images (at 2MP) and video (at 640 x 480), with a unique look that reminds me of the way still photos and video looked back in the ’70s…a bit of nostalgia for people in my age bracket (or a history lesson for those of you who didn’t exist until the ’80s or later).

The camera was so small that I had to mount it on a Gorillapod in order to carry it around, which made most people do a double-take, since the set-up looked so ludicrous.

I only used the camera for video, and here’s the result…a visual scrapbook of a month on board the MV Golden Dawn:

(Fun in the Eastern Fields of Papua New Guinea from Tony Wu on Vimeo. Downloadable version available on iTunes also. Music by Artificial Intelligence in Texas via Music Alley.)

As you can see, this is the exact opposite of shooting with the new video-capable DSLRs. There was no way to change lenses, no way to control aperture or adjust shutter…basically, no way to do anything except point-and-shoot.

But I love the result!!!

Just goes to show that it’s not always necessary to have expensive hi-tech gear to have a good time.

Apparently, there’s a new version of the camera out now called the Digital Harinezumi 2, which shoots 3MP still and 640 x 480 video (with audio too in this latest version I think) if you’re interested in picking one up to play with.

The only question now is…should I get a housing built for it?

RAW Deal

Sat, Jan 9th, 2010  |   Equipment, Technique 4 Comments

While I was in PNG recently, I tested a lens set up that I hadn’t used before, a Tokina 10-17mm zoom lens coupled with a 1.5x teleconverter, attached to my Canon 5D Mark II.

The Tokina 10-17mm lens is made for cropped-sensor cameras, so I had used it previously with a Canon 40D body. It’s a beautiful lens, and I recommend it for anyone who’s using a cropped-sensor camera.

With a 1.5x teleconverter attached, the lens works from somewhere around the 11.5 to 17mm range on my 5D Mark II, which has a full-sized sensor. Short of the 11.5mm mark, there’s a bit of vignetting, which can be cropped out in post. I prefer to do as little file-processing work as possible, so I made sure to zoom in past the point of vignetting while testing this set up.

The combination worked perfectly (after trying a couple of different port configurations, I ended up with 40mm of extension + the Pro-One dome on my Zillion 5D Mark II housing), but there was a bit of an unexpected surprise.

The following image is how Canon’s DPP software converted the RAW file from the 10-17mm + 1.5x TC set up…with the photograph taken at about the 13mm mark:

test shot DPP

Just looking at the file, it seems as if there’s significant vignetting…in other words, it looks like this hardware combination doesn’t work.

In fact, the apparent vignetting also appeared on the LCD panel at the back of my 5D Mark II, so when I looked at the LCD preview while I was in the water, I thought something along the lines of: “$@%*(^#!$)!@%$(%^^&*!!!!!”.

But later, when I imported everything into Aperture, the same RAW file looked like this:

test shot Aperture

If you inspect the image corners, you’ll see that the Aperture version has real pixels…i.e., the software isn’t doing something tricky like interpolating data.

Actually, what seems to be happening is that DPP and the in-camera software controlling the 5D Mark II’s LCD monitor are unable to handle this unusual hardware combination. Somehow, the software deletes/ obscures data from the four corners of the file…creating the impression of vignetting.

Out of curiosity, I gave the file to a couple of other people on the trip, and we opened it in Photoshop CS4 and Lightroom as well. No problems.

I don’t understand why DPP creates a vignette, but this is an interesting, if somewhat quirky, illustration of the fact that differences exist among RAW converters. It’s also worth noting that there’s a noticeable difference in colour-rendition between the DPP and Aperture versions, which I wrote about previously.


The Vision Thing

Fri, Nov 20th, 2009  |   Equipment, Technique, Marine Life, Places, Adventures 2 Comments

I’ve just landed in Port Moresby in Papua New Guinea, and have a couple of days before I get on MV Golden Dawn. Haven’t slept much over the past 72 hours, so in theory, I should crash, but I’m too wired to sleep, and I have an enormous backlog of correspondence and work, as well as scientific documents to read (that should put me to sleep!).

Anyway, while I’m in this semi-conscious, semi-zombie state, I thought it might be worth elaborating a bit more on the vision theme.

I wrote about this topic in my recent article in Wetpixel Quarterly and also in my King Kong crab post a couple of days ago.

In essence, one of the main points I try to get across in workshops, trips with other people and such, is that sometimes what you see is more important than what’s actually there.

Here’s an example of what I mean:

nudibranch

Similar to the thought process I outlined in my post about the King Kong crab, this photo is more of a “this is what I want you to see” than “this is what I saw” image.

What I actually saw was a cute little nudibranch sitting in good afternoon light. What I wanted you to see was a majestic, almost magical animal that popped out from a dark, somewhat ominous Lembeh-esque background.

Whether I succeeded or not is a matter of interpretation, but my point is that if you want to take original photos, it’s often worth pausing to consider the artistic possibilities.

Had I placed one strobe to the right, one strobe to the left, set appropriate shutter, aperture and ISO for a technically correct exposure, no doubt I would have taken a nice photo of an attractive nudibranch, but that’s more of a technical exercise than an artistic endeavour.

Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with taking technically spot-on, accurate images. You need to be able to do that without even thinking about it.

But occasionally, when circumstances permit (such as with a non-moving nudibranch), it’s nice to challenge yourself to see something that other people might not see…and then show them.

Oh…one other thing. Nine times out of 10, when I try something different, it doesn’t turn out the way I wanted, or ends up not looking as nice as I envisioned. Sometimes that’s due to a bad concept; other times, it’s because I wasn’t able to work out technical execution. Doesn’t really matter though, because the one time out of 10 that everything works…I end up with something I really like.

In short…you can’t get to the one without going through the first nine.

A Valuable Lesson

Sat, Nov 14th, 2009  |   Equipment, Technique, Marine Life 8 Comments

I suppose this comes as no surprise, but my first day of diving in Lembeh was terrific. Nudibranchs, octopuses, frogfish, Rhinopias…a nice sampling of the fascinating critters that have made this area world-renowned.

Among the encounters I had today, one in particular stands out.

This is picture of a female hairy frogfish (Antennarius striatus). When I took this photo, she was clearly hungry, as she unfolded her worm-like lure and started wiggling it around, fishing for a meal…as frogfish do.

frogfish

This is a picture of the same female hairy frogfish just moments later. In front of her is a smaller, darker hairy frogfish…a male. Given their proximity, the male may have been a suitor hoping to mate with the female.

frogfish

There was, however, just one minor problem with his plan.

Seconds after I took this photo, the female ate the little guy. Seriously.

Gulp. Swallow. Burp. In the blink of an eye…without the slightest hint of guilt or remorse.

Guys…surely there’s a valuable lesson here for us.

Related Post: A Very Hungry Frogfish

Equipment Note: Preventing Flooding

Wed, Sep 9th, 2009  |   Equipment, Technique 3 Comments

vacuumOne thing I forgot to mention in my previous equipment post about camera housings was the vacuum seal that David at Scubacam installed in my Seacam 5D Mark II housing.

The principle behind this quick modification is simple. Once you close the housing, you can test the integrity of your O-ring seals by pumping out some air and creating a vacuum inside.

If your housing is properly sealed, the vacuum will hold. If it’s not properly sealed, then air will leak in, and the vacuum won’t hold.

By watching the pressure gauge on the vacuum pump, you get immediate visual feedback.

I have to admit I was a bit sceptical about the practicality of pumping out air every time I open and close the housing, but after a few weeks with this little modification…I love the peace of mind I get from knowing with 100% certainty that my housing is closed properly before I head out on the water.

Contact David if you want him to install one of these in your housing.

Equipment Note: Camera Housings

Thu, Sep 3rd, 2009  |   Equipment, Technique 4 Comments

It’s always a bit nerve-racking to use new equipment for the first time on a big trip. My stay in Tonga is just over five weeks, and if anything goes wrong, I don’t have a lot of options for getting replacement gear.

This time around though, I didn’t have much of a choice, as I’ve just upgraded to Canon 5D Mark II bodies from my trusty Canon 5D cameras.

Canon modified the Mark II bodies from the original 5D just enough that my old housings wouldn’t work, so I had to get new ones to go along with the new DSLR cameras (…why can’t they take pity on underwater photographers every once in a while?).

During this trip, I’ve placed my trust in two housings, one from Seacam, and another made by Zillion.

I’ve only been using these housings for a few weeks, and then only for snorkelling and natural light photography (as opposed to diving and taking pictures with strobes), so it’s still early days as far as my learning curve with both housings. For what it’s worth, here are some of my thoughts at this stage, starting with a couple of general points:

First, if you’ve been on a trip with me or sent me a question asking “Which housing should I get?”, you’ll know that I don’t make a point of pushing any particular brand, because everyone’s needs are different, and there are a number of issues to consider when you invest in a DSLR housing system.

For starters, you should ensure that there’s a reliable dealer and authorised service agent near you for any equipment you’re considering, as there is a 100% chance that you’ll need help at some stage. Even if you know what you’re doing, you’ll want someone nearby who can perform regular servicing and maintenance for you.

In my case, I have Aquaforum for the Zillion housing, and Scubacam for the Seacam housing. Both shops are knowledgeable and reliable, so I bug them a lot (such a major understatement!) with questions. They have spare parts on hand, and they can help me customise whenever I need something (which is pretty much always).

The fact that I have these two reliable shops to consult plays a big role in why I have the two housings I have now.

Second, I don’t believe that there is a perfect system. Over the years, I’ve used Nexus, Sea & Sea, Subal, and Zillion…and now Seacam. Each brand has its strengths, as well as things that could be improved. I’ve taken photos that I like with all of them. The key is to find the right combination of features and functionality that suits your needs and budget.

Making sure you research and understand the housings you’re considering is probably the best thing you can do before you take the plunge. These days, there’s a ready pool of information on websites and internet forums, so all it takes is an investment of time to research.

By “research”, I mean reading before you ask questions. Research doesn’t mean firing off a barrage of generic, no-thought queries to random people, like: “Which brand is best? Which ports should I get? Which accessories should I buy? Where is the best price? How do I use all the stuff?”. If you do that, you probably won’t get a meaningful reply, so you won’t learn much.

So how are my two housings performing?

Let’s start with Zillion, since I’ve been using Zillion housings for a while. For what I’m doing on this trip…surface photography on snorkel, the Zillion housing performs beautifully. It’s light and compact (the housing is made of ABS plastic), which means minimal drag in the water. Even though the housing is light on land, it’s slightly negative in the water, because it’s shaped to just fit the camera, which means there’s not a lot of air in the housing.

zillion

I love the results I get when I combine the Zillion 5D Mark II housing with the Pro One dome. The dome is a perfect match for a 15mm fisheye lens, and with a +2 diopter and 6cm of extension tubes, my 17-40mm zoom lens is nice and crisp.

Of course, I’ve been using Zillion housings for a while, and I provide a lot of feedback to the manufacturer, so many of the features are things that, by definition, work for me.

Seacam housings are new to me. Of course, I’ve played with other people’s Seacam gear, but the 5D Mark II housing is the first Seacam housing I’ve actually used.

Initial verdict…all the positive feedback I hear from other photographers is well deserved. The housing is about as sturdy and solid as you can get. In fact, it’s the most solidly built housing I’ve ever used. The machining of the gears, levers, buttons, etc. is excellent. All the pieces fit and work together perfectly, showing amazing attention to detail. Accessing all the controls on the camera body is easy.

seacam

Something that will probably only make sense to people who’ve used many diffferent housings…I love the hybrid bayonet/ screw mount for the port. I’m generally wary of bayonet mounts because the only time I’ve flooded a camera due to my own fault was with a bayonet mount that didn’t seat properly. Yet, bayonet mounts ensure that your ports align the same way all the time…which makes life much easier when you have multiple housings and ports and switch back and forth during a trip.

I prefer screw mounts for the security (you can’t screw the port in if it’s seated improperly), but since every screw-mount port flange varies a bit, you often have to re-align dome shades and other attendant pieces each time you switch ports…a major pain in the rear.

The Seacam housing incorporates a unique solution…a screw mount that locks like a bayonet mount. In other words, you screw the port on, but it locks into place like a bayonet mount, giving you the same alignment each time…the best of both worlds.

I know…you have to be a major underwater photography geek to do cartwheels over something like this, but I would certainly do cartwheels…if I could.

Using two different housings creates some inherent challenges.

For instance, the grips are different on each housing, which means I need to fine-tune the way I hold each one. I know this sounds like a trivial matter, but every split-second counts with fast-action whales, so it took me a few days to adjust.

Also, the Seacam housing with the fisheye port attached is positively buoyant in the water, while the Zillion is somewhat negative. I’ve learned to fine-tune the timing and speed I use to bring the camera around to my eye for each housing, so I can nail the shots I want with both housings.

The layout and placement of the controls on the two housings are different, so it’s taken a while for everything to become second nature. After three weeks or so, however, I can just about manipulate all the main controls on both housings without thinking too much. By the end of this trip, I should have it down cold.

The difference in knobs and such will probably become more of an issue when I’m doing reef and macro photography, as I’ll need to access the shutter, aperture and ISO controls more often. I don’t anticipate this being a major problem though. It just means I’ll have to squeeze a bit more performance from my brain (oh yeah…that’ll definitely be an issue).

In summary, I’m extremely happy with both my housing choices for the upgrade to 5D Mark II cameras. Naturally, it’s taken some time to “get the feel” of each new housing, but as you can see from my recent posts, I’ve had no problems getting humpback images.

My next trip after this is also a snorkel-based trip (looking for sperm whales), but after that, I’ll have an opportunity to use both housings for reef photography. I’ll post more about using the housings then.

Seeing the Light

Mon, Jul 20th, 2009  |   Equipment, Technique 4 Comments

There’s always a measure of satisfaction when you finally solve a puzzle, particularly when that puzzle is something you’ve lived with for a long time.

You experience a moment of “Eureka!” followed by a deep sigh of release, as years of pent-up frustration at not knowing the answer finally dissipate. Yesterday was such a day.

Fair warning: This is a somewhat dry technical discussion, so if you read on, you run the risk of being bored to tears. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Background
I use Zillion housings. I use fibre-optic cables to trigger Inon strobes, mainly my Z220 strobes, though I own Z240s and have recently acquired an S2000.

I really like this combination, because: Everything’s light (Zillion housings are ABS plastic, Inon strobes are compact); The strobes run on universally available AA batteries; I use rechargeable NiMH batteries for maximum efficiency and minimal environmental impact; I’m in Japan a lot, so it’s easy to get parts and servicing; Fibre-optic cables are a helluva lot lighter than sync cords, and they don’t flood.

Most people who use fibre-optic cables use them with cameras that have built-in, pop-up strobes. Inon circuitry allows for the light from the internal strobe to control the external strobes, making it possible to use the native camera intelligence to control strobe output…hence terms like S-TTL and even wireless S-TTL…meaning you can just point and shoot without worrying about the strobes too much.

The problem is that I use cameras without pop-up strobes. Specifically, I’ve used the Canon 1D and 5D series, most recently the Canon 5D Mark II.

With no pop-up strobe, you need to get creative to use a fibre-optic connection, because fibre transmits optical signals (i.e., light), not electrical signals (which is what your camera sends out via the hotshoe).

The Work Around
So for several years, I’ve been using a work-around. Inside the Zillion housings I use is a clever proprietary mechanism that converts electrical input to optical output.

The result? I can fire my strobes via fibre-optics, even though I’m using cameras without built-in strobes.

The immediate drawback is that I can’t shoot with any simulated TTL function, but that’s not an issue for me, since I shoot everything under manual control.

The second, less obvious challenge, is that something funky happens in the electrical-to-optical conversion process, causing the strobes to misfire.

I discovered this with the first Zillion housing I used, with my Canon 1Ds Mark II. I got the housing two days before leaving for a month-long trip, and upon testing, discovered that every photo turned out black, or too dark relative to what it should be.

After a bit of screaming, running around in circles and calling people at random to plead for emergency assistance, a work-around materialised in the form of an extra part, called a Focus Light Controller (FLC), from Inon.

As I understand, this gadget was designed by Inon for use with Inon housings to stop activation of the focus light on their strobes, so it wasn’t designed to deal with the issue I was facing at the time, and it’s not even marketed by Inon (it’s not on their website).

But, the FLC happens to cancel all pre-flash signals, so…on the (untested and unproven) theory that the problem I was facing was due to pre-flash signals, I invested (about US$450!) in a bunch of these FLCs and hoped for the best. I was desperate.

They arrived via courier the day before my departure. I tried them. They worked.

So I’ve made do with this work-around ever since. As far as I know, I’m the only person to use this unusual configuration. (If you’re wondering what other people who use the same cameras, housings and strobes do…so am I. There’s no way they’re getting proper light output.)

Fast Forward
As the saying goes, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

Following this age-old wisdom, I continued using this work-around successfully with my Canon 5D cameras, and I assumed that the same solution would work with my new Canon 5D Mark II camera when I travelled to Izu recently.

Oops.

I didn’t have time to test everything before departing, so it wasn’t until I was on location that I discovered…nothing worked. At all. Excellent timing. *$@(%!(!#!!!

Anyway, with quite a bit of lost sleep and muttering under my breath, I managed to finagle around the problem and get decent photos, but it wasn’t fun, and the circumstances were far from ideal.

So, once I got back to Tokyo, I set about trying to figure this out once and for all, with the help of Nagamatsu-san from Aquaforum and Kojima-san, the owner of Zillion.

The Resolution
I’ll spare you the details of the many agonising tests, discussions and disagreements we had, but after a few weeks of back-and-forth, we finally figured it out yesterday.

In short, the conversion from electrical-to-optical requires a power source. Not a big power source, but just enough to kick the optical signal along. The design used in the Zillion housing draws power from the camera’s battery. Since not a lot of power is required, it never affected the camera’s performance.

What we discovered, however, is that the route through which the power was derived has an unexpected side-effect.

The Zillion conversion process takes power via the remote-release socket on the left side of the camera (when viewed from the rear). In the process of testing, we stumbled upon the fact that under certain instances, the camera outputs an electrical signal via that socket.

This unanticipated electrical output sent an unanticipated “fire!” signal to the external strobes via the fibre-optic cables, resulting in mis-firing/ mis-timing.

The FLC work-around I used worked because the FLC (mis)interpreted this “fire!” signal as a pre-flash and stopped it.

So we had an unintentional signal being stopped unintentionally, producing the desired result. Who says double negatives don’t not work?

(Actually, there was an additional minor, unrelated issue that further complicated the situation, so in reality, we had an unintentional signal being stopped unintentionally before it was able to be stopped unintentionally, producing…a mess.)

In hindsight, this makes sense. But for the past several years, no one ever thought of this (at least, not that I’m aware of). We’re not certain what the electrical signal is for, but I surmise that the electrical output is from the camera back to the remote release to let the remote release know whether the camera is focused or not.

Solution
So, now that we finally know the root of the problem, we have several possible solutions to test. Fortunately, for my upcoming trip to Tonga, I won’t need strobes, so there’s time to re-configure the conversion circuitry to fix the problem.

This situation doesn’t affect a lot of people outside Japan, but if (a) you have a Zillion 5D or 5D Mark II housing, (b) you use fibre-optic cables instead of traditional sync cords and (c) you are using Z220 strobes, you will have a problem and need to contact me or Zillion.

For later series strobes, including the Z240, D2000, S2000 series, there may be an issue, but you can minimise the impact by ensuring that the magnet button on the right lower side of your strobe is in the “up” position in the case of the Z240, and that you do not have the magnets installed in the case of the 2000-series strobes.

Remember, this only applies if you’re using fibre, and if you use a Canon DSLR that does not have a pop-up strobe, in a Zillion housing. (In other words, don’t panic and flood me with emails.)

When we have out a permanent solution, I’ll post again.

Aside
If you’ve attended any of my talks or been on trips with me, you know that one of the things I keep emphasising is that obsessing over the exact camera settings you use isn’t a good idea.

This is a perfect example.

Had I been locked into a specific, tried-and-true, always-use set of camera settings, I would have never succeeded in getting the squid shots in Izu. As it was, I understood that there was insufficient light coming from my strobes, so I fiddled to get the appropriate ambient light exposure and minimised the requirement from my strobes.

In fact, I had no idea what the settings were until after I came up, downloaded the files and looked at the metadata in Aperture.

And finally…my heartfelt thanks to Nagamatsu-san and Kojima-san for spending the time and having the patience to slog through this time-consuming, tedious testing process!

A Bit About Work Flow

Fri, Jul 10th, 2009  |   Equipment, Technique 8 Comments

Oops. I meant to talk a bit about image-processing work flow in my last post, but forgot. I must’ve been too preoccupied constructing my sophisticated photo-shoot schematic.

Anyway, I hit a bit of an obstacle after getting back from my first day with the Canon 5D Mark II. After downloading my files and making two complete copies, I dragged a random RAW file over to my desktop, with the objective of opening it in Photoshop to see how I did.

Fail. Big time.

You see, every time Adobe releases a major upgrade of Photoshop and related software, the company has the charming habit of ensuring that the previously perfectly good version of their software doesn’t get updated to work with RAW formats from new cameras as they’re released.

Being armed only with Photoshop CS3, I couldn’t open the 5D Mark II RAW file…at least not with Adobe software.

There is a workaround. You can convert RAW format to Adobe’s DNG format, and then open with previous versions of Photoshop, but who the &*#$(@ wants to do that?

Otherwise, you need to invest in new software, which of course makes sense from Adobe’s point of view, but doesn’t really from mine, since I only use a handful of really basic functions in Photoshop, none of which have changed substantially in any iteration of the software I’ve had.

To solve the problem, I brought everything into Aperture (which I normally do anyway, but I was just in a hurry in this case to see how my first photos turned out). I sorted, tagged and picked a few favourites out of the day’s shots. Perfect.

Then, I experienced my next obstacle with Aperture’s RAW conversion. The RAW converter does an OK job, but the results from Aperture’s conversion process for underwater images, especially those involving lots of blue, aren’t as good as they could be. For topside photos and macro stuff, Aperture does just fine, but with blue water in the background…not so much to my liking.

Anyway, the work-around was to use Canon’s proprietary RAW conversion engine, built into its Digital Photo Professional (DPP) software, which comes packaged with Canon DSLRs.

The software is slow and clunky, but the RAW converter is by far the best for Canon files…which makes sense if you stop to think about it.

DPP gives you control over quite a few things, the most useful of which I’ve found to be Picture Style (Canon’s proprietary colour-management profiles), exposure and light temperature. There’s also a chromatic aberration correction function, which can help quite a bit if you’ve got a file with noticeable colour shift. I pretty much don’t touch all the other controls.

And of course, transferring from DPP to Photoshop CS3 was no problem, producing beautiful files and obviating my inability to convert 5D Mark II RAW files with CS3.

Yes, this process takes longer and is more cumbersome that a straight Aperture-based conversion, or opening with CS4 RAW Converter, but I believe it results in the highest-quality files, and the fact that I don’t need to buy CS4 is a big bonus too. I only converted the files I really liked, and left all the others alone (i.e., this more troublesome process makes me edit more harshly, which is a good thing).

Finally, I had my first real-life chance to make use of the MarineLife Keywords List I wrote about a while ago.

All I had to do to label my squid shots was look-up “bigfin reef squid” in the MarineLife Keywords index that I had already imported into Aperture, and, like magic, I had everything I needed in order to tag the squid images:

bigfin reef squid: Sepioteuthis lessoniana; bigfin squid: Sepioteuthis lessoniana; Cephalopods: Cephalopoda; Invertebrates; Loliginidae; Mollusks: Mollusca; Squid: Teuthida; Teuthoidea

…in practical terms, meaning I didn’t have to (mis)type all those long multi-syllabic tongue-twisters into each photo’s metadata. All I had to do was drag-and-drop the list onto all my squid files and I was done!

So to summarise, my work flow for the 5D Mark II:

- Import into Aperture; delete junk so no one else sees cruddy images;
- Tag with MarineLife Keywords; add location tags (Note: Save $5 off MarineLife Keywords with discount code I692W094 at checkout);
- Use Aperture’s Smart Albums to pick out favourite images;
- Open selected file with Canon DPP; adjust; send to Photoshop CS3;
- Make final minor adjustments; save as required format.

New Camera, Random Thoughts

Fri, Jul 10th, 2009  |   Equipment, Technique 6 Comments

Using a new camera and housing for the first time is always a bit nerve-wracking…all the more so when you’ve got limited time, a fever, bad weather, and skittish animals…as I did in Izu.

Plus, just to add to my anxiety, a bunch of people were expecting me to get good photos, none of them allowing for the (entirely realistic) possibility that I could flub up and botch the whole trip.

pair of squid

Just days before my departure, I got a Canon 5D Mark II, the successor to my favourite camera for the past several years, the original EOS 5D.

Yes, I know. The camera has been out a while, but there wasn’t much point for me to invest in one until I had a housing for it…so as soon as I had a Zillion 5D Mark II housing in my eager hands, I got the camera and headed to Izu.

There’s been so much written about the 5D Mark II that I’m not going to bother talking about specs and such. Just Google the camera name and you’ll find plenty of technical information about it.

I am, however, going to tell you that after four dives with the camera…I love it. Here’s why:

By way of background, I’ve used a number of Canon DSLRs over the past several years, including the 1D, 1Ds, 1D Mark II, 1Ds Mark II, 1D Mark III, 5D, and 40D. Of all those cameras, the 5D was my favourite.

It’s the right size for my hands, so I don’t get as tired carrying a couple of them around all day as I do with the larger 1D cameras, and the colour rendition seems the nicest of all the Canon cameras I’ve used…at least to my eye.

Also, I’m a simple shooter, meaning I stick to the basics…i.e., as long as I have control over shutter, aperture and ISO, I’m happy. I don’t fiddle too much (especially underwater) with the options and additional functionality available on DSLRs, so the 5D was perfect for my needs.

With this in mind, I had high expectations for the 5D Mark II.

The camera didn’t disappoint. As you can see from the photo at the top of this post and from my earlier post about the squid I photographed in Izu, the colour rendition of the 5D Mark II is outstanding.

I shot the squid image above at ISO 320, with the aperture pretty wide at f5.6, shutter set at 1/200, and illumination for the squid from two Inon Z220s set far to the left and right, pointed nearly straight out. I was using a Canon 17-40mm lens, zoomed in close to the 40mm end, with a Pro-One Dome and a +2 diopter.

diagram

Why did I choose these settings? Well, in short, because I had to. It was pretty dark, so I needed to use a relatively high ISO to pick up ambient light, but also, my strobes were mis-firing and not putting out enough juice.

No matter what I tried, I couldn’t get the strobes to work properly, so I needed the extra camera sensitivity to be able to wrap sufficient light around the squid. (I think I’ve figured out the cause of the strobe difficulties. I’ll write about it later once I can confirm.)

To say that I was worried about how the images would turn out is like saying I was sorta nervous on my first date!

Fortunately, the camera performed beautifully. Despite the relatively high ISO (I usually prefer to stick to ISO 100, or up to 200 max), the noise levels were fine. I’m not a pixel-peeper, so my criterion was viewing the files at 100% on-screen and checking for ugly stuff.

Despite the difficult lighting situation, the camera did a great job distinguishing the nuances in light levels to make the squid look 3-D and not flat (as they appear in many photographs I’ve seen of them).

If I had one gripe, it’s with the autofocus. The reason I switched from Nikon to Canon many years ago was Canon’s superior AF on the long lenses I use topside. Underwater, in dark conditions, Canon AF doesn’t work as well as I’d like.

Obviously, the AF is good enough for me to get the photos I need, but it just seems to be less zippy than it should be…primarily in low EV conditions and with macro subjects. This was true with the 5D, and it doesn’t seem to have improved any in the 5D Mark II.

Again, I’m not a technical expert…I just know what I experience.

From what I hear from friends, the recent Nikon DSLRs have excellent AF, so I’m looking for an excuse and the circumstances to try a Nikon D700 underwater…[insert sound of me clearing my throat]…a not-too-subtle hint to anyone who might be in a position and of the inclination to send a camera my way!

But, the minor AF issue aside, the bottom line is that I’m happy enough with the camera that I’ll be getting a second 5D Mark II body soon, which I’ll be putting to work in a Seacam 5D housing that I’ll have my hands on shortly…[insert video clip of me rubbing my hands together in anticipatory, lustful manner].

Staying Wet

Wed, Jul 8th, 2009  |   Equipment, Technique, Places, Adventures 8 Comments

The water temperature while I was in Izu recently ranged between 19ºC and 21ºC, mostly hovering around the lower end.

The first time I dived in Izu back in 2006 was also the first time I used a drysuit, since up until that point, I had completely avoided getting into water below 28ºC…as any sane person would do.

Having lost my vestigial grip on sanity since that time, I let my friends persuade me into diving in Izu with a wetsuit during my recent squid search.

To this end, I had a custom wetsuit made, 6.5mm farmer-john style bottom with a 6.5mm pullover top and attached hood. On the recommendation of my friends at Dan’s Dive Shop, I went with the consensus top-of-the-line suit, made by a company named UGO.

(Side Note: UGO is an acronym for the company owner’s name, Yuki Goto, which is kind of funny, because a few friends mentioned that UGO 6.5mm suits are considered the Ferraris of wetsuits. If you take the first two letters of the owner’s name (instead of just using the letter “U”), you get “Yugo”, which…for those of you old enough to remember…was the antithesis of a Ferrari.)

The neoprene used by this company is special. I don’t completely understand why, but everyone agrees that it doesn’t compress as much as normal neoprene, it molds to your body, and it’s really warm.

Custom-tailored, the suit was a bit difficult to get into initially, but not as difficult as I had imagined. Actually, getting the suit off was more of a chore.

wetsuit

Anyway…I’m sold. The suit fit so well that I was almost entirely dry after I got out, and I was as toasty, if not toastier, than with my drysuit. Plus, it’s a lot easier to move around in a wetsuit, as you don’t have sudden shifts in buoyancy (air pockets move around inside a drysuit).

And never to be discounted is the fact that with a wetsuit, I can pee if the need arises. It’s the simple pleasures that really count sometimes.

The major drawback is the difficulty of learning how to take the pullover top off. It’s a tight fit, so it requires a nimble twist-and-flip technique. My initial attempts were more of a flop-and-squirm. But, on the last dive of my recent trip, I finally succeeded in dis-wetsuiting without external intervention…to a hearty round of applause from bemused onlookers.

wetsuit